The Rocket Man's Son
by D. Haiiro no otoko
Summary: This is a continuation of "The Rocket Man" from The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury. It explores the aftermath of Doug's father's death. Afterwards Doug and his mother avoid the sun for years. How does Doug cope with his mother's rapidly deteriorating mental state?
**A/N:**

 **Hello! This is my first time posting anything so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. This is my continuation of Ray Bradbury's "The Rocket Man" from The Illustrated Man. Thank you very much and I hope you enjoy!**

 **Warnings: Child neglect and slight abuse. Not really a happy story.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

I'm drowning in darkness. It's suffocating me, squeezing the life out of me until I'm nothing more than an empty shell. The sun perpetually haunts me, sending a wave of depression through me every time I think about it.

My father had finally chosen to stay with us, his family, after one final trip to space. Now he is a part of the sun. The irony of it all would make me give a bitter laugh, if I was capable of it anymore. All I know in my life now is the darkness, the shadows are swallowing me whole.

My mother refuses to go out into the sun, and hardly leaves at night either. My father's death has broken her. She's lost the little sanity she had to begin with. The more I desperately try to keep her from falling apart, the further I fall into the dark abyss of this place. I can feel the chains keeping me bound here for eternity.

Our entire daily schedule has changed to accommodate our new lifestyle. We have breakfast at midnight, lunch at three in the morning and dinner at the cold dim hour of six A.M. It's slowly driving me insane. I haven't been in school in over a year. My previous friends have all but abandoned me, leaving me with the horrible aching feeling of loneliness. My sanity is beginning to crumble, soon I'll be as lifeless as my mother.

I'm sure that the neighbors whisper about our house, with the father that died as a rocketman, and the wife and child that refuse to see the sun. I snap out of this train of thought, it's giving me a horrible headache. I look over to my mother, she's sitting in the position that she always is in these days. She does not move in the slightest, or even acknowledge that fact that I am sitting in the room with her. A glossy film covers her eyes as she gazes at a world that I will never be able to see. My mother has completely stopped functioning. She barely ever speaks to me, only eats when I force her to.

I recall when our technology slowly stopped functioning, much like we had. One day I had decided that I was finally going to fix it, believing that if I could do then I could fix our broken hearts.

When I started to fix what used to made our breakfast, my mother came in screaming at me. "Put that away!" she snapped. "We don't need anything fixed so leave it alone! Only he, only he can...," she trailed off. Her outburst completely and utterly shocked me. It was the most I had heard her say in ages. I looked at her broken eyes, her slightly trembling figure and nodded.

"Alright. It's ok, I won't fix anything," I said putting my hand on her shoulder.

"Promise?" she whispered.

Choking back a sigh, I promise her. After that I took sole responsibility of cooking our meals. Only the oven and refrigerator are still working. It was hard in the beginning, but I gradually grew used to doing all of the work in the house.

I gradually turn into an insomniac. I stay awake all night, and can't find any sleep in the day. Sometimes I pace around my room and others I just stare blankly at the boarded up windows that let no sunlight through. It feels like when I stayed awake all night, waiting for my father to come home. Against my will tears roll down my face. It honestly surprises me that my tears have not dried out already. I can hear soft sobs coming from my mother's room. I bury my head between my knees and try to block out the world. I start to drift off, the stress and exhaustion finally getting to me.

 _I'm in a white room. It seems to go on endlessly and box me in all at once. Slowly shapes and colors begin to fill the room. Gradually the picture comes into focus and I see the ancient car that my family had driven to Mexico in. I watch as a younger version of myself catches butterflies in the rainforests of warm, green Mexico with my parents. I see hundreds of butterflies sucked into our radiator, dying there, beating their blue and crimson wings, twitching, beautiful and sad. Then suddenly my father bursts into flames until nothing, not even ash remain. I watch helplessly as my past self desperately tries to find our father. I feel the darkness start to close around him and I franticly try to reach him. My mother lets the darkness take hold of her with no resistance, and my past self is dragged along with her. I try to grab his hand, but he is swallowed by the shadows before I can reach him. I then find myself locked in a room of darkness. I pound on the doors begging to be let out. My mother comes out of the shadows with a key to the door. "You will never escape," she hisses with a crazed glint in her eye and throws away the key. And then I'm drowning. Drowning and I can't breathe._

I let out a silent scream as I wake up. I frantically search my room. I am gasping for air and tears are cascading down my cheeks. I don't sleep for three days after.

The months all blur together, it feels as if time is at a standstill. It has been three years since my father's death and I have not been able to move on in the slightest. It is four in the morning and I again find myself with nothing to do. I just stare blankly at the wall, trapped in the confines of my mind. That dream is always there, haunting me. Every time I think about it I have an overwhelming need to escape. I am worried that I am beginning to act more like my mother by the day. "I can't do this anymore," I whisper to myself.

I know that I can't go on this way forever. Living in the past is only making me suffer. I then have the urge to run away and never return. I quickly disregard that thought. There is no way that I would be able to abandon my mother. She wouldn't survive without me to take care of her. A shocking thought comes to my mind. I could leave during the day, only when I am sure that she is sleeping. Its fine, I try to convince myself, what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

I set my plan into action the next day, after I watched my mother disappear to her room. I tiptoe to the front of the house and put my hand on the doorknob. I take a deep breathe, trying to calm my nerves, lessen the shaking of my limbs. I find my resolve and slowly open the door. The light of sun immediately blinds me after not seeing it for so long. A jab a pain shoots through my heart and tears glisten down my face, but I am smiling.

I finally feel free and I'm shaking again, but this time it's with excitement. I take the first deep breath of the fresh air that I've had in a long time. I notice some people looking strangely at me, but I can't bring myself to care. I break into a run when I can't hold my energy in any longer. When the sun is starting to set, I quickly return home.

The nightmares that had been plaguing me begin to lessen with each visit outside. I begin to connect with the world of the living again. Weeks of my daytime excursions pass by. It becomes increasingly harder to force myself to return home. I can barely even think of it as that anymore, it is just bottomless abyss dragging my mother down into the darkness.

I slowly trudge along the path home. This is the longest I've ever dared to stay out. I became too distracted. I silently curse myself and quicken my pace, I don't want my mother to find me gone. I finally approach what I've come to regard as my prison. I slowly open the front door, seeing no sign of my mother I close it as quietly as possible. I let out a sigh of relief and close my eyes, while leaning against the door.

When I open them again I find myself face to face with the cold glare of my mother. My heart fills with dread when I see the look in my mother's eye. It's the most alive she's looked in years. Unfortunately for me, the emotion she is feeling is deranged anger. She swiftly comes up to me and slaps me across the face. I stand stunned until I find her iron like grip on my wrist. When I finally gain a semblance of composure I peer at her face. Her eyes are panicked and bloodshot, tears flowing freely down her face. The crazed glint in her eyes reminds me so much of that horrifying dream, and a chill creeps up my spine.

"How could you try and abandon me?" she whispers, throat raspy. I start violently shaking my head, my own tears starting to fall in my desperation. She pays me no mind and demands, "Are you trying to leave me too?" She is then muttering to herself, "No I won't let you leave me! Not like him…" She then begins to drag me through the house and brings me to an empty closet. "Not like him!" she screeches. I begin to grow increasingly panicked and start to struggle.

"No, no, no, no, no, oh god please no," I beg as I try to wriggle out her death grip.

"It's for your own good," she says as she throws me into the closet, and I sit on the ground in shock. "I can't let you leave me." She slams the door the door shut. The last thing I hear is the lock turning and the deranged whisper of my mother. "You will never escape." And then there is only the darkness that is sickeningly familiar. It's come back to haunt me and now there is no hope for escape. I know that I will never be free of it. I find myself pounding on the door and pleading to be let out, begging for my mother's forgiveness. Only this time it wasn't a dream.


End file.
